Читать книгу In Safe Hands - Linda Conrad - Страница 12

That one blasted kiss! Whenever Colin had looked toward Maggie since their encounter, he’d found her still fingering her bottom lip. Even now, hours later, as she drove the four-wheel drive away from the San Antonio airport and headed toward her home in South Texas, her left hand absently touched her soft, full mouth. It was as if she couldn’t quite get past the kiss they’d shared.

Well, hell, he was having a lot of trouble moving beyond that kiss as well. What the devil had he been thinking? Of course, the truth was he hadn’t been thinking at all. Just reacting.

Normally, he thought things through. It seemed that Maggie Ryan had turned ordinary into unusual.

He and Maggie had that explosive sort of chemistry that would be a huge problem if he didn’t watch himself. For the life of him, he could not imagine why he responded as he did toward her. She was just too complicated, and he’d promised himself that he would not touch her again.

Headlights from oncoming cars shone through the windshield often enough for him to see her profile. She didn’t look a thing like his mother, but she reminded him of his mother every time he caught a glimpse of her face in the bright light. His mother had been unique—not something an English schoolboy considered a good thing.

Maggie’s face was unique, too. Different from the British girls he’d grown up around. Staring at Maggie, he decided her looks were even more exotic than his mother’s. Where his mother’s hair was an Irish bright red and her skin as milky colored as clotted cream, Maggie’s hair was deeply auburn, with shiny copper highlights, and her skin tone was the golden color of summer sunlight.

She’d been right. Her looks were as much of a mishmash as her accent, but the total effect was stunning. Particularly her eyes. She looked at him for a moment, and once again, Colin found himself drawn into their mystical, green depths. The intimate exchange left him shaken.

Why had he ever considered traveling home with her? Yes, he was desperate to know more about his brother and the way he had died. But he should have found some other way. It seemed she was one of those vivacious and fiercely independent women, the kind that ran over everyone with her own plans. And that made her trouble. Just like his mother.

“How much farther is it to your home?” he asked, wishing he could have walked, rather than ride in this confining vehicle with her any longer.

She shot him a sideways glance. “Zavala Springs is nearly a two-hour drive from the San Antonio airport,” she admitted. “Just relax.”

Relax? Not a chance. He folded his arms and gazed into the complete darkness outside his window.

“Colin, you never finished telling me about your brother. Why don’t you tell me now?”

Why not, indeed. At least it would take his mind off the woman sitting beside him.

“John…John was rather a sickly lad,” he began gruffly. “But when he was a child, before he turned six and became ill, I wanted to take him everywhere with me. He was sweet and charming. Everyone liked him and fussed over him. I wanted to show him off.”

Come to think of it, Colin had always thought of his baby brother as a kind of trophy. Some wonderful possession. A pet.

But he had never considered his feelings toward John in this way before, so why the devil had he thought of them like that now?

He cleared his throat. “John couldn’t keep up with me after a while. I’m not sure what his health condition was, I was too young to understand. But my mother’s mother came from Ireland to live with us so she could cure him. She used natural healing techniques and other kinds of…um…remedies.”

“Did it work? Did he get better?”

“I suppose so. But it took several years, and by that time my mother had decided she didn’t want to live with us anymore. She and my grandmother took John and returned to Ireland.”

He rubbed at the ache in his chest.

“I guess I get the idea that sometimes husbands and wives go their separate ways,” Maggie said softly. “But I don’t understand how your own mother could leave you behind. Did she explain her reasons to you?”

He shook his head again, then realized she couldn’t see his actions in the dark while concentrating on the road ahead. “No. But I know my parents had a big row about it. In fact, they’d begun arguing every day. I never wanted to overhear their arguments, and tried to hide when the shouting began.”

His eyes clouded over at the memory, but he set his jaw and continued. “One day I heard them say my name. Later, when I went to my mother for an explanation, she was gone. She’d taken John and my grandmother and disappeared from my life.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Maggie’s voice held a note of deep sympathy that Colin would have rather avoided.

He’d never spoken of this with anyone. Why would he do so with a woman who made him uncomfortable?

“What did your father have to say? Did he explain?”

Well, he’d been the one to start this. He had no choice but to finish the tale.

“My father was a broken man without her. He lived another fifteen years, but he was never the same. We never spoke of my mother again. But I could see the hurt in his eyes every time he looked at me.”

“Looked at you? Why?”

“I have my mother’s eyes,” he answered as he shifted under his seat belt. “So does…did…John. My father and I would speak of John often during those years. John wrote to me, you see, wrote all about his activities and asked about mine. The two of us carried on a grand correspondence throughout school. He was smart and funny in his letters, but we never spoke of Mother.” Colin exhaled deeply. “After graduation I suddenly became too busy to bother with a brother I barely knew and wouldn’t recognize. And then, while in the army, I lost track of him.”

“You’re too hard on yourself. I think it’s normal for young people to want to find themselves for a few years. I know both of my brothers did the same thing.”

Colin had the distinct impression Maggie’s family would never be able to completely lose track of her.

“But I don’t understand why you two didn’t try to see each other,” she continued. “After you were adults, I mean. Y’all are family.”

Not much of a family, he thought. But he wouldn’t say so. He had already said more than he should.

“We were never in the same hemisphere at the same time,” he told her dismissively.

Maggie apparently understood his need to end the discussion of John for now. But that didn’t mean she was done prying.

“Did you confront your mother about leaving? Did you ever see her again?”

“Once.” The word exploded from his mouth before he could drag it back. “I saw her once. At Father’s funeral. But that was no place for…she had no place there, dressed in mourning.”

After a long pause, Maggie nodded for him to continue.

He finally found the strength to go on. “John didn’t come,” he started. “Not to his own father’s funeral.” The idea still astounded him, but things were becoming clearer, the more he’d found out about John’s situation.

“I had to take leave from my unit to attend. Come down from the mountain passes and turn my back on my mates in their battles, in order to say goodbye to my father.” He rubbed at his temple, trying to shake the images out of his head. “I only discovered a few weeks ago that, by then, the SIS had recruited John for an international drug sting in Mexico. John was deep undercover, and couldn’t attend Father’s services.”

“I see,” Maggie said with a catch in her voice. “And now you’ll never be able to talk with your only brother about any of it again. That might be one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard.”

Stunned at her words, he stared over at her profile as she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. He reached for her, brushing his fingertips across her hair.

“Maggie…” His own voice cracked, reminding him that he’d promised himself not to touch her again. He needed to come away from this experience whole and strong, and falling under Maggie Ryan’s spell could destroy him.

He dragged his hand back to his side, and she never gave any sign that she’d known he’d been stroking her hair. Furious with himself over his lack of control, Colin slumped lower into his seat and closed his eyes.

The next morning in soft gray light and under overcast skies, Maggie tightened her grip around eight-month-old Emma and stared down at the grave belonging to the baby’s father. For months she and Emma had been coming here regularly, to place flowers on the two lonely graves. But before today, Maggie had spent her time in the cemetery, wondering about the people buried beneath the headstones. This morning she knew a little more about one of them.

She glanced over at Colin. He’d bowed his head, but his jaw remained tight and set. He suddenly reminded her of her father. She well remembered being at her grandfather’s funeral six months ago in this very same cemetery. When her father had stared down into the grave of his own father, whom he also hadn’t spoken to in many years, his expression had appeared equally sad and distant. She sighed, blinked and turned her face away.

Colin had been too quiet since they’d arrived at home last night. He’d barely said two words, except for asking to come here to see his brother’s grave this morning. On the other hand, she’d been eager to pick up Emma from Lara, her friend and neighbor who’d been babysitting, and couldn’t help babbling about the baby. But they’d gotten in to town well after midnight, and she had forced herself to wait until this morning to retrieve the baby.

Snuggling Emma closer, Maggie breathed in the fresh, sweet smell of baby powder and no-tears shampoo and felt the tension leaving her shoulders. So far, Colin had been conspicuously quiet about his niece. It was torture not knowing what he intended to do about Emma.

Maggie wanted to ask him but was still too afraid to know the answer. Rather than just come out with it, she decided to wait until the timing felt right.

Before he made any rash decisions, his spirit needed healing. The guilt he felt about his brother was written all over his face, and in the way his shoulders rounded as he stuck his hands in his pockets. She had the knowledge to help him heal, if he would let her. Despite her trepidation about how incredibly attracted she was to him, she still hoped he would stick around long enough for her to help him.

Emma must have suddenly come to the conclusion that no one was paying enough attention to her. She squealed and lifted a pointed finger toward Colin.

“Ba! Ma!”

Colin turned to look at the baby without smiling. “She looks like my mother.”

Maggie glanced down at the child in her arms. “I think she looks like you. Do you want to hold her?”

He shook his head and edged back a step. “I know what her father looked like, but what about the mother?”

“I never met her, of course,” Maggie began as she bounced Emma in her arm. “But her driver’s license picture showed a pretty woman with dark, golden hair and fair skin. Which is a little strange, because their neighbors in Alexandria say she spoke with a heavy Spanish accent.”

“You think my brother met her while he was in Mexico?”

“It’s possible. But if so, that would mean she probably came from a wealthy family. The richest and most powerful families there take pride in being descended from fair-skinned Spaniards. My own mother’s family comes partially from those Spaniards and partially from the original native Indians—related to the Mayans.” She stopped talking for a second, waved her free arm widely across her body and smiled, hoping to get a smile in return. “Thus, the stark but beautiful differences you may notice in my own coloring.”

No smile came back at her. Colin kept his features straight and his mouth immovable.

“We’ll probably never know for sure.” She hurried to fill up the silence, as Emma had already quieted down. “I don’t see any way that we’re going to be able to trace Emma’s mother. I suppose she will always be a woman of mystery.”

Colin nodded sharply, as though he agreed. Then he turned to stare at his brother’s headstone again.

Maggie heaved a heavy sigh. Once again, she was dying to ask him what was in the back of his mind about the baby’s future. But he hadn’t let himself get to know Emma at all. Maggie wanted him to do that much before he made any final decisions.

“When we get back to the house, you can contact your mother to tell her about your brother’s accident.” And that she has a granddaughter she has never met.

“No,” he said without turning. “I told you. I haven’t spoken to my mother in years. I understand she knew full well my brother had an undercover assignment that kept him from coming home at my father’s death, but she didn’t bother to tell me that when I saw her at the funeral.”

Maggie wondered if he’d really given his mother a chance to get a word out at all back then, or if he’d run over her with his pent-up anger. “Maybe she was told not to say anything. Aren’t undercover operations supposed to be…uh…secret?”